


you’re the answer

by not_your_tinkerbell



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-25 02:52:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12521324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/not_your_tinkerbell/pseuds/not_your_tinkerbell
Summary: What if the present Akashi gets trapped inside the body of someone who exists ten years in the future?Or, in which, the present Akashi Seijuurou comes across the future Kuroko Tetsuya.





	you’re the answer

The third year’s most loved student, Akashi Seijuurou, a self-proclaimed straight male, is getting confessed at by another male for the first time in his seventeen years of living.

A flicker of emotion flashes across his eyes as he drops his cold gaze on the envelope in the boy’s outstretched hands; a light blue envelope, with a very neat handwriting in the middle of it — _“Dear Akashi Seijuurou-kun.”_

 _Oh_ , Akashi _unwillingly_ has to admit it, _that’s quite grand._

He doesn’t know if the boy is joking with him nor he’s being serious. However, judging from his firm expression, as well as the determination he finds flowing out of those sky blue eyes, Akashi eventually comes to the conclusion that it’s obviously, _clearly_ , the latter. Hence, he quickly controls his expression, trying his best to keep himself calm, before he asks the obvious, “For me?”

The boy pinches the envelope with his fingers softly, curling it up, “Yes.”

“…a love letter?” Akashi clears out his throat awkwardly, making a confirmation once again.

The other hesitates for a few seconds, and then, answers in a low voice, “Yes.”

“Does it mean… _you_ like _me?”_

“……”

The boy bites his bottom lip nervously, silently moves his head up and down.

Even though Akashi has already expected such an answer, still, it doesn’t mean that his heart has had a full preparation for it. After all, never in his life has he imagined to receive a confession from a boy. If it’s a girl, he’s already gotten used to have them lining up behind him, but it’s a _boy._

_It’s quite bizzare._

“Did you,” Akashi squints his eyes at the boy’s drooping eyelids and his pursed lips, feeling somewhat perplexed as well as vexed to get himself trapped in such a confusing situation, “Did you know anything about me before you decided to chase me? I’ve lived for seventeen years, and the only thing I haven’t doubted is about my sexuality.”

And then, he adds in a serious tone, “I like girls. Therefore, I’m really sorry.”

The boy’s hold on the envelope tightens. Even under his blank façade, there’s a hint of disappointment written all over his face. He repeatedly opens and closes his mouth, wanting to say something, but the words just won’t come out. In the end, he decides to stubbornly hand over the envelope to Akashi, whispering with his head hanging low, “The letter is addressed to you. You’d better accept it.”

Hearing that, Akashi lets out a helpless sigh, and he, being himself, has no other choice but to take the envelope from the other’s hands, albeit reluctantly. “Even if I had seen it, nothing would’ve changed.”

“I understand. It doesn’t matter.” The boy slowly withdraws his hands. His big, sky blue eyes steal a glance at Akashi’s face carefully, before he hurriedly takes a step back, “Then… I’m going to go first?”

“Thank you for your letter. And also, for liking me.” Akashi lifts the envelope up in the air and offers a polite smile.

After he watches the boy walk away, disappearing around the corner, completely out of his sight, Akashi’s eyes sweep over the trash can in the corner, contemplating for a while, before he decides to stuff the letter into his pocket.

The bell rings throughout the bustling corridors, indicating that the next class has just been started. Because the first section of the afternoon is P.E., Akashi hurries to the field to catch up to his classmates. 

When Aomine, who’s changing into his sports shoes, sees Akashi’s arrival, the corner of his mouth immediately moves upwards into a self-righteous smirk, “Here comes our great Akashi Seijuurou, whose beauty has taken over both men and women.” he declares loudly, “I just listened to the girls in our class talking, about this cute freshman who just confessed to you. Is that true?”

Akashi casts him a lazy glance, deliberately dodges the question, “Gossiping all day long, is that what you can only do besides procrastinating, Aomine?”

“Duh. I’m not gossiping, okay? Almost everyone saw him giving you a love letter.” Aomine yawns, “Man, Satsuki has been fawning over that Kuroko Tetsuya since the opening ceremony, you know, saying that he has a really cute face and all. Wow, she’s gonna cry for sure if she finds out about this. But, hey, you just saw the real person! Say, is he as cute as how Satsuki has described him to be?”

“…I can’t really remember,”

Akashi bends down to tie his shoelaces. In his mind, the face of the boy appears to be somewhat blurred, before it gradually becomes clearer and clearer; a small face, a pair of sky blue eyes with matching hair, with very pale skin. 

Apparently, he’s quite good-looking. _Well,_ Momoi is right. He looks a little too cute for a boy his age.

_What did Aomine say about his name again? Is it Kuro…? Tetsuya?_

“Don’t fucking pretend, please,” Aomine lets out a snort, “It’s only been a few minutes. How can you forget how he looks like? Last time I checked, you seemed to have an “amazing” brain which helped you remember even the simplest mistake your ‘underlings’ did.”

Akashi turns his head to give him a supercilious look, “…he’s very cute, I think? But that’s all.”

“ _Oh,_ ” Aomine hums, “Not ready for any further development?”

Akashi immediately becomes annoyed and gives the other a violent nudge on the ribs, “Get lost, Aomine. Haven’t I made myself clear enough about my sexuality? Perfectly straight. Straight as a ramrod. Even straighter than our school’s flagpole.”

“Ow, fuck. You don't have to say that this early, you know?” Aomine winces, “What era is it now? Sexuality is merely a decoration. Don’t you know that, if you happen to meet a beauty, you shouldn’t mention about flagpoles? Because, even the electric poles have to bow and scrape to the people. Hell, I myself would be more than willing to swing that way if that Kise Ryouta takes even a slight interest in me!” 

“That’s you, not me.” Akashi lets out an exasperated sigh, “I’m trying to justify my sexuality here. I’m telling you: I’m _absolutely_ straight.”

“Okay, okay, I understand. You’re straight, okay.” Aomine raises his hands in defeat, “Oh, look. Our bald teacher’s gonna blow his damned whistle.”

Just as expected, as soon as Aomine’s voice drops, the shrill whistle comes from the center of the field.

“Class 3-1, gather up!”

All students lazily walk up to their P.E. teacher and start lining up.

Today’s lesson is about free kicks, and Akashi has been assigned as the goalkeeper.

He slightly arches his back and lifts his hands. His eyes lighten up, following along with the movements of Aomine’s feet.

Aomine’s sports shoes rub against the grass field. He takes a few steps back, before speeding up towards the ball.

The ball streaks across the sky like a meteor, crossing over the wall of players, and makes its way to the goalmouth. 

Akashi bounds up, extending both his hands to prevent the ball from going into his territory, only to have it miscalculated, that leads to an unfortunate timing.

The spinning ball passes through his extended hands and shoots him straight in the face ruthlessly.

“Akashi—”

Everyone in the field cries in alarm and springs up towards him.

Akashi’s vision starts to blur; he feels dizzy and his eyes dim down. He can’t even shout out a single pain, and he feels the back of his head hits the ground before he completely loses his consciousness.

 

* * *

 

He lifts up his eyelids with a great deal of effort. However, it’s dark and gloomy before his eyes; he’s greeted by a dull sight. Through a narrow crack, there’s a leak of the lights entering his eyesight.

Akashi blinks, and realizes that his eyes are covered by something. When he moves slightly, he feels his head burn and it causes him to let out a quiet hiss.

“Wake up?” A soft, clear male voice echoes from the bedside, “Don’t move. The wound on your head isn’t good yet.”

Akashi unconsciously raises his hand, and his finger touches the gauze bandage wrapped tightly around his head.

He visibly stiffens.

_Didn’t I just get hit by a ball? Was it really serious?_

He suddenly feels a cold temperature on his wrist; there’s a hand reaching out to hold his wrist, pulling his hand away from his head and puts it back under the blanket. An indignant tone rings in the air, “I told you not to move. The wound is susceptible to infection.”

Akashi quietly listens to the person beside him talking. The voice of the other was clear, and gentle, as well as steady; calm — it’s obviously the voice of someone who’s already reached his twenties.

However, as long as Akashi can remember, the male teachers in his school have mostly reached the age of forty or fifty. And, his group of friends are just like himself — they’ve just gotten into the phase where there’s a changing of their voices, though their voices still very much sound immature, so it’s very unlikely to be one of his teachers nor his friends.

The man’s voice was completely unfamiliar for Akashi. He couldn’t identify the other’s identity at all.

And so, he swallows a little; his throat is a bit dry when he asks in a muffled voice, “You are…”

“Ah,” There’s a hint of embarrassment in the other’s voice, “I’m the one who accidentally knocked over the flower pot. I’m really sorry, I was cleaning the window, and I accidentally hit the flower pot with my elbow…”

Upon hearing that, a frown appears on Akashi’s face, and he can’t help but ask in bewilderment, “What flower pot?” 

“You don’t remember?” The man sounds a little surprised, “This noon, when you passed by the Kiseki apartment building, didn’t you get your head smashed by a flower pot that fell off the second floor…?”

“……”

Akashi spends a whole minute digesting the information the other has just spilled out.

_This noon, he wasn’t playing football in his P.E. class, but rather, his head got smashed over by a flower pot that fell off the second floor of an apartment building._

_Now, he’s lying in the hospital. He’s not dead. The culprit’s sitting by his side._

Is this a dream? Is he dreaming?

He secretly pinches the back of his right hand with his left hand under the blanket. When the sharp pain penetrates his skin, he winces slightly.

_Definitely not a dream, but…_

_…what’s with the situation now…?_

Living in the 21st century, Akashi actually isn’t _that_ unfamiliar about such a thing; traveling back in time or whatnot. In fact, his curiosity has made him read a lot of books about things like going back to the past or walking through the time into the future.

However, what he’s unfamiliar about is the fact that he, of all people, gets the opportunity to do that.

He pretends to be unperturbed, swallowing his saliva and calmly asks the man, “What time is it now?”

“10 o’clock in the evening.”

“I’m not asking about that…”

The man tilts his head to the side, and appears to be somewhat stupefied, “So, what are you asking me about?”

Akashi chews on his lower lip and thinks, if he were to ask the man about the year directly, it would’ve come out very strange. As a result, he’s silent for a long while, but his brain is running fast, trying to come up with a solution.

The owner of the body’s voice sounds similar to his age; he seems to be a teenager, too, just like himself. Akashi ponders about that for a moment, and a miraculous column of light suddenly appears on top of his head, giving him an idea. Clearing his throat, Akashi starts, “The thing is… this morning, there was a question in our history exam about how long it has been since the surrender of Imperial Japan was first announced. I’ve never been very good in history, therefore, I don’t know if I’ve filled in the right answer. I was thinking about it when I walked past your apartment building this noon… but the result was I got smashed by your flower pot before I could get my head wrapped around it.”

The man lets out a faint sigh, feeling very apologetic, “This really is my fault, I’ll take full responsibility for the medical expenses. However, the certain year of the surrender of Imperial Japan should be a general knowledge for Japanese people. Student, your knowledge of history has to be strengthened.”

The other pauses for a while, before he mutters softly, “1945 to 2027. 82 years.”

Akashi’s heart sinks.

2027\. That’s ten years from now. Or, rather, from his original timeline.

Has he been kicked to ten years later by a ball? But, whose body he’s attached to right now? How about himself in 2017?

He’s struggling to get up. However, his movement is stopped by the man’s hand.

“If you want or need anything, I’ll take it for you.”

Akashi wets his lips, “I want to ask… when can I get out of the hospital?”

“Uh,” The man blinks, “I just asked the doctor this afternoon, and he said it’s going to take at least three days.”

“Three days?” Akashi suddenly feels a chill in his heart.

“Don’t worry, I’m going to help you contact your parents now. When you were unconscious, I couldn’t find your parents’ contact details. You give it to me now, and I will apologize to them personally.”

Akashi is at a loss for words. How can he have the contact details of this boy’s parents?

Besides, his top priority now is to find a way to go back to himself in 2017, not to find the boy’s family. Furthermore, if the boy’s parents were to discover the differences between himself and their son, how would he explain to them about their situation?

It’ll be better if he doesn’t mess with the wrong kind of trouble. Akashi silently apologizes to the boy’s parents.

“Actually, I…” Akashi, to the greatest extent, tries to make his voice tremble to show his repressed emotions, “I have no family.”

The man doesn’t seem to expect such a reply. After a long minute of trying to suppress his shock, he mumbles, “I’m sorry. I really… I don’t know.”

“It’s not your fault,” Akashi pretends to be gloomy and presses his lips together, sighing, “My parents died in an accident when I was only five. So I’ve been living with my grandmother since I was a kid. However, last year, she also passed away. So, I…” 

The man seems to believe him right away. He repeatedly assures him that he’ll accompany him and stay by his side until he’s discharged from the hospital without a hitch.

Because it’s very late at night, the man persuades Akashi to take a rest. Although he’s still worried about what’s going to happen to himself in 2017, but because of the injury as well as physical fatigue, Akashi soon falls asleep, and has no dream all night.

The next day, at noon, after a simple check-up by the doctor, it’s quite gratifying to see that the wound on Akashi’s forehead has begun to scab. Hence, the doctor replaces it with a small piece of gauze bandage, no longer blocking his eyes.

The moment the gauze bandage is being peeled off, Akashi, who has adapted to the dark, practically can’t open his eyes under the glare of the sun. He narrows his eyes for a long while, barely adapting to the midday sun.

He blinks his dry eyes and starts to look around. Aside from the doctor and the nurse in the ward, there’s only himself. The man who’s been accompanying him the whole night has just gone downstairs to buy him something.

The doctor carefully admonishes him for some precautions upon before leaving the ward.

There was a separate bathroom in the ward, and the moment the door to the ward shuts close, Akashi immediately jumps up from the bed before he runs into the bathroom, barefooted, and finds the mirror on the wall.

What greets him is a young and inexperienced face; thick eyebrows, round eyes, soft lips — unexpectedly, he has a delicate appearance. Though the boy can’t be compared with Akashi’s level of charms, but he’s still considered a fine juvenile.

The boy’s face is slightly paler, presumably because of the loss of blood. However, the body bones are quite solid; there are muscles on the lower abdomen and arms. He must have a habit of exercising regularly.

Akashi is somewhat feeling satisfied with the owner of the body’s stature and returns back to the bed. While waiting for the man to come back, he mulls over how he’s going to pass through the time to go back to his own time.

From the corner of his eye, he catches a glimpse of a phone on the bedside table by chance.

Ten years have passed, but iPhone doesn’t seem to have changed much. It just gets a little bigger than the original and the “HOME” key button becomes much wider.

After a moment of hesitating, Akashi picks up the phone and unlocks it.

Out of curiosity, as well as to inquire about the boy’s identity, Akashi goes through his social media apps, and immediately discovers that the boy’s name is Ogiwara Shigehiro; he’s already in his senior year of high school, his grades are quite good, and he’s raised in a single-parent family, under the custody of his mother.

Thinking about Ogiwara’s mother, Akashi can’t help but feel guilty. He quickly scrolls through the address book to find Ogiwara’s mother’s phone number, wanting to inform her that his son is safe and sound; that she doesn’t need to worry.

He presses the dial button, and while listening to the waiting tone, he takes a deep breath to ease the tension. However, after waiting for a long time, nobody answers.

Akashi decides to hang up the phone, thinking that she’s probably busy or something, but not even a few seconds later, a short message comes up. 

> _“Shige, mom is with Uncle Fuji right now, so it’s not convenient to answer the call. What’s the matter? Let’s talk about it tonight.”_

Akashi almost instantly figures out about the identity of this “Uncle Fuji.”

When he’s about to give her a reply and accidentally reads their chat records, Akashi gets a bit surprised to find that the relationship between Ogiwara and his mother seems to be on the cold side. Ogiwara goes to a boarding school, and the only connection with his mother is the time of the month when the living expenses are called.

No wonder Ogiwara disappeared all night and his mother didn’t find out.

 _Every family goes through its own problem,_ Akashi sighs, putting the phone back on the bedside table, at the same time as the clicking sound of the door being pushed open resonates throughout the ward.

He lifts his head and sees a man coming in, about 25-26 years old; a thin figure, with a pair of big, baby blue eyes as well as matching hair color. He’s wearing a white shirt, revealing a bit of his collarbone. And he has surprisingly very pale skin, as though he’s never been exposed to the sun.

It should be their first time of looking into each other’s eyes, but why does Akashi feel a strange sense of familiarity?

The man sees that he’s changed the gauze bandage to reveal his eyes. He raises an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised, “Has your wound got better?”

Akashi, who’s still staring at the other in a puzzled way, nods slowly, “The doctor said it’s beginning to scab.”

“That’s good to hear,” The man rolls up his sleeves and sets up a small table on the bed, placing a pot of plain porridge on it, “You haven’t eaten anything in a day. Let’s eat some.”

“Thank you,” 

Once the smell of the porridge enters his nostrils, Akashi can hear his stomach growling. He quickly takes a spoonful of the porridge, blowing on it to cool it off, and gulps it down.

The man sits by the bed, folding his hands on his lap, and, with a soft expression, asks, “What’s your name?”

Akashi nearly chokes at the unexpected, yet totally expected question. He clears out his throat before giving him an exasperatingly slow response, “…Ogiwara Shigehiro.”

“Oh, that’s a nice name.”

“And you?” Akashi seems to have asked unintentionally.

“I’m,” The man quietly opens his mouth, “Kuroko Tetsuya.”

“…oh.”

Akashi stares at him blankly as he takes another spoonful, putting it into his mouth and, because he’s in a daze, he forgets to blow on it that it causes his tongue to get scalded. He lets out an “Ow!” and quickly spits it out; his tongue hanging out like a puppy.

Seeing Akashi’s wet, reddening eyes, as well as his pitiful appearance, Kuroko shakes his head in amusement, before he gets up to take a cup of cool water for Akashi. 

“Be careful.” He says with a small smile. 

Since his tongue just gets burned, Akashi doesn’t say anything, and hurriedly drinks it, feeling a bit embarrassed. 

He secretly takes a look at the man’s face, and a thought suddenly occurs to him, that besides looking somewhat familiar, as if he’s ever seen him somewhere, the name also sounds quite familiar in his ears, as though he’s heard it before.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s supposed to be a oneshot but because it’s too long, I decided to divide it into a few chapters.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading! :)


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